Just great. Twain-ish, in that poetic way. Nice choice of words. Good imagery. Rhythmic, like a wake from a river boat. A joy to read. Refreshing . . . like an early morning rain
I loved the way you worked over the words & lines. Short. Long. Powerful. Like a seasoned boxer in a battle with a dictionary. Or a thesaurus. Left. Right. Punch. Bada-bing. Bada-boom. SCORE! Good for you!
Wonderful imagery. Lovely words. Gently paint-brushed pastel word-colors caressing the textured threads of a vacant canvass -- & doing no harm. Who could ask for more? Not I . . .
Wonderful imagery. I love the contrast between Alaska and Florida. I could feel the water splash. The sunrays hit. The memories swirl. This piece overall had a solid literary arch. And within each "Chasing Fish" sub-set, a minor arch, creating a rainbow of words worthy of a Hemingway.
Made me wonder if you were speaking metaphorically when you wrote:
"And leaning in close it melts
Just leaving you cold"
Quite a powerful decathlon of words; they speak of snowflakes -- and relationships - no two of which are alike. Though when they melt, I suspect that can't no longer be said.
This piece reminded me much of Kanji, a Japanese system of writing based on Chinese ideographs. Many years ago, while in Japan, I marveled at the dignity and grace displayed by the practitioners of this ancient art. It seemed so effortless -- which I learned, quite quickly, was not the case.
Your work, too, seems effortless. But I am older (and wiser) now, so as not to pick up a literary Kanji brush and attempt to replicate (in any way) the lovely ballet of words and thoughts that you have so eloquently (and elegantly) choreographed here.
Got a link to this from kansaspoet, a timely literary gift for which I am grateful. It was quite helpful to me on many levels. Thank you for putting these words & thoughts together.
Well, I read this piece twice – back-to-back, in rapid succession. It was like – a heavyweight fight. Sharp words, powerfully thrown, with a hefty twist at the end. A piece written in authority and without apology. Smack-down.
There may be a “hummingbird trapped inside” – but this piece struck with the impact of a hawk . . . or an eagle. In that good way.
I usually prefer poems, but this piece was so exquisitely written, the imagery so nuanced, yet crisp; the relationship described so raw and real, that I could not pass it up -- in that way that a passer-by rubber-necks at a train wreck. . I believe (in my limited literary way) that you have something special here, something that can be elaborated upon and stretched into a darkly detailed “indie film” – but, then, that’s just me . . .
My favorite lines:
"Inside the drawer, beneath the organized surface, a wholly different world exists: one marked by disarray and chaos. Old letters from years ago, pages torn and out of order."
That, and of course, the battery references . . .
My only criticism?
The spacing between the paragraphs – but, then, that is a psychological personality flaw on my part . . . that and the fact that there needs to be a space between and Hers and marked, as in:
a short, intense, cracklin' cascade of mind-tinglin’ images that draw the reader in & singe him -- like one of those mosquito night lights -- "ZAP!' then sizzle . . .
This piece has a Bob Dylan, rhythmic quality to it, reminding me of the lines from "Subterranean Homesick Blues":
"Johnny's in the basement
Mixing up the medicine
I'm on the pavement
Thinking about the government"
It is exactly what I like about good writing: a serendipitous word journey that takes the reader to a place that he/she has not been before -- or, at the very least, not recently . . .
I quite liked your choice of words/phrases -- and the imagery . . . It had a dark, edgy feel to it, but not sinister. Your "punch line" at the end was both compelling and thought-provoking:
"My thumbs have fallen off. Soon
not even the plants will grow."
I hope you continue to share your word-etchings here at Writing.com
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